


Personal Investigations

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Aurors, Black Family Drama, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Girls in Love, Minor Character Death, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: Tonks is a very busy and professional Auror, who doesn't have time for flirting with stupidly pretty trainees like Fleur Delacour, or dealing with her increasingly ridiculous family members.Oh, who is she trying to kid?  The way things are going, it'll be a miracle if she gets any work done at all.





	Personal Investigations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coyotesuspect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotesuspect/gifts).



> Thank you to [tpants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tpants%22) for the beta job. Any remaining errors are mine.

Tonks sat hunched over her desk, brow furrowed and quill scratching over parchment, with piles of photographs, witness statements, and evidence folders scattered all over her desk.  She was under strict instructions from Kingsley to get all her case files up to date by… well, by last Tuesday, actually, but that hadn’t happened.  Today was a long shot and tomorrow wasn’t looking good either.

Still, no point complaining, she reminded herself.  Paperwork was just one of the annoying bits of being an Auror that everyone had to learn to live with.  Like Mad-Eye’s lectures on wand safety, putting up with her ridiculous new trainee, and uninvited visits from passing family members.

‘I know you’re there,’ she said, not looking up from her notes.  ‘I’m just choosing to ignore you.’

‘I was starting to wonder.’  Tonks still hadn't looked up but she could sense Sirius grinning.  ‘As I recall, you did always struggle with Stealth and Tracking.’

‘I passed!’

‘Third time,’ said Sirius, and he was definitely grinning now. Tonks could see that now he’d annoyed her enough to make her lift her head to give him a dirty look

She sighed and went back to writing up an unspeakably tedious case involving some kids trying to break into Gringott’s.  ‘How did you get in here, anyway?’

‘Your glamorous assistant let me in.’

‘She’s not… she’s not my assistant,’ said Tonks vaguely.  ‘She’s a trainee.’

What she was, actually, was a pain in the arse.  Why Fleur Delacour had even decided to join the Aurors was anyone’s guess, especially after she quit as a Curse Breaker at Gringott’s because she broke too many nails or something.  Her primary purpose in life seemed to be making things as difficult as possible for Tonks, what with her coterie of male admirers following her around, her obscenely rolled “R”s, her perfect skin, and her beautifully soft silver-blonde hair and…

Damnit.  Point was, Fleur was a nuisance and why Tonks had been saddled with her was anyone’s guess. Apparently Mad-Eye reckoned that mentoring that nice wee girl, Delacour, would be good for Tonks, but that just went to show that Mad-Eye was, in fact, mad.

‘What do you want?’ said Tonks. Sirius hadn't really done anything wrong, but he’d mentioned Fleur and he was sitting right in front of her so he was as good a target as any.

‘Is that any way to greet your favourite cousin?’ asked Sirius. ‘And don't start on about my ego, the competition’s not up to much.’

‘I have Muggle cousins,’ said Tonks. ‘On my Dad's side.’

‘How terribly progressive,’ said Sirius. ‘I'm very impressed. Still, do you think you could tear yourself away from the paperwork for a minute?’

Tonks would honestly have preferred to carry on with her notes, if only to be contrary, but Sirius chose that moment to Vanish her quill, and arguing that he shouldn't have would only have drawn attention to the fact that he had managed it.

‘No, really,’ she said. ‘What do you want?’

‘Regulus is missing.’

Tonks didn't answer right away. Regulus Black was, well, he was kind of a sore point. So far as Tonks could make out, he'd always been a typical Black - a snotty, superior little pure-blood snob. Tonks had barely had anything to do with him since neither her mother nor Sirius had spoken to him for years, until dear Auntie Bella had got him mixed up in her Knights of Walpurgis and their nasty campaign of Muggle baiting and pure-blood supremacy. Sirius had surprised everyone by testifying in Regulus’ defence at his trial, insisting he was just a daft kid who hadn't really known what he was doing. It was probably part of the reason why Regulus had been let off with a six month sentence, and he'd been in a strop about it ever since.

‘How do you know he's missing?’ asked Tonks with as much patience as she could muster.

‘It was his birthday last week,’ said Sirius. ‘I sent him a card but he's not replied.’

Tonks rubbed her forehead. She didn't get paid enough for this shit.  ‘Sirius, I'm sure you're the pinnacle of etiquette, but you can't call in the Aurors just because someone doesn't send you a thank-you note.’

‘It was a Muggle card. One of the ones with a badge for the birthday boy’s age,’ Sirius elaborated. ‘It had the wrong age on it.’

‘What?’

‘So there's no way Reg wouldn't have sent me at least a terse “fuck you” and maybe even a Howler if there wasn't something very wrong.’

Tonks pulled at her roots and felt very glad not to have been blessed with siblings.

‘OK, fine,’ she said, aware there'd be no getting rid of Sirius without at least a partial concession. ‘I'll look into it. Unofficially, mind, you've not given me enough for a formal investigation. In fact, I don't see why you had to interrupt me at work. I assume I'll see you at Mum’s Do on Saturday.’

Andromeda Tonks was in the habit of putting on cultural events - recitals, choral events and such - in aid of various good causes. They were one of Tonks’ least favourite ways to spend an evening, and that included writing up case files. 

‘Yeah, about that,’ said Sirius. ‘I can't make it. I’ve finally managed to convince Moony to take an entire weekend off responsible teacher-ly extra-curricular activities.’

Tonks huffed irritably. Trust Sirius to fuck off and abandon her when she actually wanted him around, even if it was only because Sirius’ presence meant there was a chance that Tonks might not be the most embarrassingly drunk person present.

‘You can bring Remus too,’ she said. ‘It might seem that way sometimes, but “certifiably insane” isn't actually an entrance requirement.’

‘Moony can't make it either. Because, uh, he doesn't want to go,’ admitted Sirius. ‘Don't give me that look, I found you a date.’

‘You… what? Without asking me first?’ Tonks struggled to contain her temper. Her mother would be upset, Tonks reminded herself, if she brutally murdered her favourite cousin. And there would be a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

Sirius smiled the self-satisfied smile of a man who knows he probably won't be brutally murdered, no matter how richly he deserved it. 

‘Thoughtful of me, wasn't it?’ he said. ‘Fleur’s really looking forward to it.’

Tonks’ stomach dropped. He wouldn't. He hadn't. Oh, of course he fucking had, the smug obnoxious prick.

‘Out of my office,’ she ordered, one hand pointing towards the door. ‘Out, now, before I arrest you and have you charged with wasting an Auror’s time.’

‘Is that even a real offence?’

‘Three months in Azkaban,’ confirmed Tonks. ‘Out, now.’

‘You wouldn't.’ 

Tonks narrowed her eyes. ‘Fucking try me.’

She did at least get some peace after that, but the thought of actually socialising with Fleur- with people she knew and lots of alcohol present - meant the flaming case files didn't stand a chance.

#

Tonks told herself that a night out with Fleur, at one of her mum’s charity events, couldn’t possibly be as tedious, embarrassing, or just generally awful as she imagined, and she was right about that.

It was actually much worse.

The troll poetry reading – a reading of poetry by trolls, that is, not trolls reading poetry – was as bad as it sounded.   The merperson art was almost certainly fake.  For reasons best known to herself Andromeda had allowed a company recommended by Mundungus Fletcher to do the catering, resulting in hors d’oeuvres so bland and rubbery, they very nearly made Fleur cry.  The wine, though, was absolutely fine, and Tonks really couldn’t blame herself for knocking back a glass or five, and letting herself go a little too easily when Fleur pulled her out of the room.

‘You’re drunk,’ said Fleur as Tonks stumbled along the corridor.

‘You’re really pretty,’ said Tonks, like that was any sort of a comeback.  

Fleur laughed, light and mocking, and dragged her into the space between velvet curtains and the patio windows.  Pressed up against the glass, the unseen darkness of the gardens behind her, Fleur looked more astonishingly, preternaturally beautiful than ever.  The whole of her – the porcelain skin, clearwater eyes, hair like moonlight – so close and so deliciously naughty, as Fleur’s mouth quirked wickedly and her hands settled on Tonks’ hips, it made it hard for Tonks to breathe.  

Maybe it was Veela magic, or alcohol, or lust, or just Tonks’ innate gift for bad life choices, but something clicked in Tonks’ mind and she decided to just  _ give up _ .  She leant forward barely an inch (how had they ended up so close?) and pressed her mouth to Fleur’s.  Fleur returned the kiss with more enthusiasm than she’d ever shown for anything else Tonks had wanted from her, breathy and deep, as the slick heat of her tongue danced into Tonks’ mouth.

‘This is a really bad idea,’ Tonks muttered between kisses, mostly so she could say that she tried.

‘You can remove your hands from my breasts if you wish,’ said Fleur, every “R” rich and obscene, sending shivers right through Tonks.  ‘But I do not think that you wish.’

‘Fuck,’ said Tonks, and she bit Fleur on the neck.  The sharp indentations and livid red marks she left on Fleur’s skin looked wonderfully scandalous.

‘Let me see you,’ whispered Fleur, hot and damp in Tonks’ ear.

Tonks considered, vaguely in her wine-and-want induced fog, lighting her wand and pretending to have misunderstood her.  Instead, she dropped to her knees and pretended not to have heard at all as she ducked her head inside the silk folds of Fleur’s robes.

It was a  _ really _ bad idea to go down on her trainee behind a curtain at a public function, but Tonks always did find some bad ideas irresistible.  Fleur’s knickers were barely-there whisps of fabric, no doubt terrifically expensive, but easily moved aside as Tonks flicked out her tongue to take a first taste of Fleur’s cunt.

Fleur made a rather delightful mewling sound, and Tonks could almost picture her face, mouth clamped shut as she struggled to keep quiet.  Grinning to herself, Tonks tugged Fleur’s knickers down, sliding the sinfully lacy things down the smooth perfection of Fleur’s thighs as slowly as she could stand.  Fleur let out another, more impatient sound, stepping out of her underwear and bracing herself against the window.

So Fleur was an impatient little madam, no surprises there.  She stood with her legs parted, pelvis tilted forwards, all but pushing herself into Tonks’ face.  Tonks was more than happy to oblige, but Fleur really needed to remember who was boss.  It was only a very mild form of the Auror’s Restraint Charm that Tonks cast on her, just enough to keep Fleur from falling down.

With Fleur safely in place, Tonks set her wand to vibrate and clamped it between her own legs before returning her attention to Fleur’s.  Fleur might look dainty from a distance, but Tonks could see the lithe strength in her body, supple muscles flexing beneath perfect skin.  She licked, and nibbled, and sucked at the soft, smooth flesh of Fleur’s thighs, leaving a trail of little red marks as she moved higher, closer.

Fleur was already soaking wet by the time Tonks reached her pussy, so tantalisingly sweet and delicious.  She slipped her hands behind Fleur’s body to cup the ripe swell of her backside and licked, and licked, and  _ licked _ at Fleur’s clit until Fleur was coming, gasping breathy and desperate sobs of desire as her legs trembled and her hands clutched uselessly at the glass behind her.

It felt amazing, stiflingly hot and oh-so intense.  The sound of Fleur coming undone, the taste of her, and the vibrations from her wand combined into a heady rush and Tonks came, biting her own lip hard enough to bleed and collapsing into a shaking mess on the floor.

A few gasping breaths later she managed to release Fleur from her mild and makeshift restraints, letting her slide down to the floor beside Tonks.  She looked, perhaps for the first time ever, a little dishevelled.  The thought made Tonks feel almost absurdly pleased with herself.

For a few moments Tonks enjoyed the lazy pleasure of afterglow, patting the soft waves of Fleur’s hair and smiling to herself dopily.  The euphoria didn’t last though – did it ever? – and gradually she became aware of the distant sounds of the party, clattering feet and chattering voices.  It was a stark reminder of where they were and what she’d just done.

‘That was a really bad idea,’ said Tonks, hand on her forehead.  She could feel the advance guard trumpeting the hangover to come.

Fleur shrugged.  ‘Troll poetry was a bad idea.  Whoever told your mother those ear-rings could be worn with that necklace ought to be arrested.  The egg mayonnaise vol-au-vents were grounds for war.  But this…’  She smiled, low and seductive, and Tonks could feel the warm light of something that might be Veela magic drawing her in.  ‘This was a triumph.’

Tonks got to her feet and straightened her robes with as much business-like efficiency as she could muster.  ‘It can’t happen again.’

‘I think it can,’ said Fleur.

‘It won’t.’

Fleur, damn her, didn’t even argue.  Tonks peeked around the curtain and then crept out, tripping over a wire-and-precious-stone Grindylow sculpture as she went.

#

Monday morning and she was definitely going to speak to Shacklebolt first thing, see if she couldn’t get Fleur re-assigned.  Perhaps Dawlish could mentor her?  He didn’t have a trainee.  Plus he was always staring at Fleur, looked quite hungry about it, truth be told.  No, Tonks decided, that wouldn’t be right – she might want to be rid of Fleur, but it wouldn’t be fair to set her up with someone who was going to letch all over her.  (Never mind that Tonks herself at done a lot more than look at Fleur. That was beside the point.)  Perhaps Braithwaite could do it?  But no, Braithwaite was such a grumpy mare; she’d never be able to put up with Fleur.

Tonks liked to walk to work – the exercise was good for her and it was a chance to clear her head.  During her thirty minute trip through London she reviewed and rejected every one of her fellow Aurors as potential mentors for Fleur, all being unsuitable for some reason or another. It looked like Tonks was stuck with her awhile longer.

How very annoying.

#

It was a slow week.  Tonks actually caught up with her case files, went through the whole of Mad-Eye’s weekly mandatory magical device checking routine for the first time in a year, and even volunteered to attend the MLE inter-departmental board meeting.

Honestly, where was a vicious Dark Wizard plot when you needed one?  If things kept up like this, she’d run out of reasons to avoid having A Conversation with Fleur.  Eventually she decided to go and check up on Regulus after all, thereby avoiding both a potentially awkward situation with Fleur and another surprise visit from Sirius.

‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Kingsley when Tonks told him her plans.  ‘We’re quiet enough that I wouldn’t mind assigning someone else, save you running into any potential conflict of interest.’

‘Oh, please.’  Honoria Nott, one of the senior Aurors, came to the rescue.  ‘If some of us weren’t prepared to investigate our own families we’d never get any work done at all.’

Tonks smiled gratefully, glad that it’d been her mother who’d been a Black, so Tonks herself didn’t have to carry the family name like a badge of privilege and dubious morality.

‘You are worried about him?’ asked Fleur, as they walked through London.  That was probably another bad idea – Fleur was a magnet for them – as even Muggle men couldn’t stop staring at her.  They’d very nearly caused a multiple pile-up crossing the road.

‘I’m just doing my job,’ said Tonks.  ‘If I don’t do it, Sirius will only go charging in and start hassling Regulus himself, which is bound to end badly.’

‘Your family are very dramatic,’ observed Fleur.  ‘And you cannot talk about your feelings.’

Tonks just scowled.  She realised that wasn’t exactly challenging the uptight English person stereotype, and got even more annoyed.  ‘Keep your wand out of sight,’ she said brusquely.  ‘Muggles are staring.’

‘Only at my tits,’ said Fleur, shrugging.

Well, Fleur did have magnificent tits, but Tonks could see it would get a bit old, people stare at them all the damn time.  She made a mental note to try not to do that so often.

‘Right,’ she said, as they turned onto the street containing Regulus’ home.  ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Regulus lived in Mayfair, in a swanky little building full of terrifically expensive luxury apartments.  All wizarding, of course, and the building was protected by Muggle-repelling Charms so strong they’d been blamed more than once for disruption to the local Muggle postal service.  Tonks had to present her I.D. badge and her wand to the welcome witch before they were allowed inside, and even then had to make vague threats about having the building raided before she’d hand over a key to Regulus’ flat.

The flat was quiet and still, the air sour with the scent of old milk. Tonks ducked into the kitchen to Vanish the contents of the fridge – it’d been some time since the Cooling Charms had worked.  On the windowsill she found a pile of owl post.  Amongst the bills and promotional fliers for Madam Malkins were a handful of birthday cards, including one from Sirius.  Tonks regarded it with a frown; it was starting to look like he’d been right about Regulus having disappeared.

‘So,’ she said, business-like as she turned to Fleur.  ‘Have a look around.  What does this place tell you?’

Fleur glanced around, her expression disdainful.  ‘You English imagine money can compensate for a lack of natural flair,’ she said.  ‘This is a mistake.’

‘We’re Aurors, not design critics,’ huffed Tonks impatiently.  ‘What does it tell you about the person who lives here?’

‘I already know who lives here; it is your cousin, Regulus.’  Fleur looked bored.  ‘He is quite… what is the expression?  A stuffed shirt.  How can a person live like this?  The wallpaper alone is making my soul cry.’

‘Fleur…’ Tonks began warningly.

‘Oh, very well.’  Fleur pouted.  ‘There is no sign of a struggle, so he probably wasn’t taken from here.  He didn’t expect to be gone so long, though, he is too meticulous to leave food to rot in the kitchen like that.  There is something hidden under the coffee table, we should look there.’

Tonks glanced over at the coffee table, solid mahogany with an apparently empty shelf underneath.  A wave of her wand confirmed that there was a Concealment Charm on it.  How did Fleur spot it so easily?  Tonks looked at her questioningly.

‘His brother uses the same spell,’ said Fleur with a shrug.  ‘For hiding alcohol, not evidence of involvement in the Dark Arts, but it was easy enough to spot.’

There was something about the revelation that made Tonks feel distinctly uncomfortable.  ‘Fleur are…’ she said, unable to keep the note of suspicion out of her voice.  ‘Are you friends with Sirius?’

‘You know, I have met most of your family,’ said Fleur airily.  Tonks would take issue with her tone, if she hadn’t met so many of them in a professional capacity.  ‘He is the only one with any sense.’

‘Right.’  Tonks was pretty sure Sirius had never been described as the most sensible member of any demographic.  Although, knowing both of them, it was entirely possible that Fleur meant it as an insult.  Still, Tonks didn’t have time to ponder why Fleur might be secretly meeting up with Tonks’ relatives behind her back.  They had work to do.

There was a large box Concealed under the coffee table, full of notebooks, photographs, and drawings.  They were meticulously organised, but it still took Tonks and Fleur the better part of an hour to sort through the lot.

What they read made Tonks feel sick.

There were stacks of newspaper clippings about the Knights of Walpurgis, illegally produced pamphlets by the group themselves, and more information about Azkaban than Tonks had ever seen in one place outside the MLE’s own internal library.  Most troublingly off all, there were extensive notes on what looked very much like a plan to help Bellatrix Lestrange escape from Azkaban.

‘It does not look good,’ said Fleur.  Her voice was gentler than usual, and there was a softness to the way she looked at Tonks that was distinctly unsettling.

‘Idiot,’ muttered Tonks under her breath.  ‘I thought he was done with all this nonsense.  He’s already been inside once, you’d think he’d have learnt his lesson.’

Fleur didn’t answer, just placed her hand over Tonks’.  Tonks couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away.

‘You know he’s actually 12 years older than me?’ said Tonks.  ‘And I still feel like the grown-up having to clean up his messes.’

‘Men are a great deal of trouble,’ noted Fleur.

Tonks wasn’t about to argue with  _ that. _

#

‘You’re in luck,’ said Kingsley, once Tonks had explained the situation to him.  ‘We brought Clarabel Wilkes in this morning.’

Wilkes had been a long term fixture on the “Definitely Dodgy But We Can’t Prove Anything” list, but Tonks wasn’t sure how relevant her arrest would be when it came to finding Regulus.

‘I say we brought her in, she was actually caught here in the Ministry,’ explained Kingsley.  ‘Trying to abduct one of the MLE secretaries or put them under the Imperius Curse, we think.  She’s got some resistance to Veritaserum so we can’t be sure what she was up to exactly, but along with what you’ve told us about Black it seems like the Knights are planning  something to do with Lestrange.’

‘So what are we going to do about it?’ asked Tonks.  ‘Having Wilkes in custody and a decent insight into their plans seems like too good an opportunity to miss.’

Kingsley smiled at her.  ‘I’m glad you see it that way,’ he said.  ‘You’re going undercover.’

Well, Tonks should’ve seen that one coming.  She supposed she should be grateful that, however unpleasant both her politics and her personality might be, at least Clarabel Wilkes’ face wasn’t too awful.

#

‘You think he has gone back to them?’ asked Fleur as she and Tonks went through their last-minute prep before heading out.

‘I don’t know,’ confessed Tonks.  Clarabel Wilkes’ robes were heavy and restrictive, layer upon layer of green damask, and her features sat uncomfortably on Tonks’ face. It was always a peculiar experience, imitating someone else’s appearance rather than making up her own, and it made Tonks feel like a stranger in her own body.  ‘I don’t want to think he has, but… maybe that’s the problem.  Wishful thinking can make person complacent.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Fleur.  ‘It did look like he’d been kept away from his flat unexpectedly.  He may have been abducted.’

‘It’s a cheerful choice, isn’t it?’ said Tonks.  ‘He’s bound up with the Knights one way or another, but is he a victim or an accomplice?’

Fleur placed her hand slowly, carefully on Tonks’ arm before asking, ‘which do you hope it is?’

‘Victim,’ said Tonks firmly.  ‘I might still have a chance to save him.’

#

The plan to infiltrate the Carrow Estate, gather information, and then sneak out again to report back to the Aurors department went swimmingly for twenty, maybe thirty minutes, until Tonks tripped over her own feet and smashed a priceless 17 th Century bust of Prunella the Ponderous.

‘Sorry about that,’ said Tonks, smiling brightly at the sour faces of Amycus and Alecto Carrow.  ‘Sure I can fix it.’

She had her wand out and ready when she realised that something was very wrong.

‘Clarabel Wilkes is the most graceful woman I’ve ever known,’ Amycus informed her.  ‘She once danced with the Magical Ballet.’

‘And she has never once apologised for anything,’ added Alecto.  Her wand was out and pointing at Tonks.

Well,  _ shit _ .

Fleur, who had been giving an excellent impression of one dazedly under the Imperius Curse cast a Shield Charm just in time to protect Tonks from Alecto’s curse, and Tonks managed to Stun Amycus before he could retaliate.  Alecto yelled for back-up – Tonks wasn’t sure who from, but she decided not to hang about to find out.  Instead, she grabbed hold of Fleur’s hand, and the two of them made a run for it.

The Carrow Estate was large and strangely designed, full of twisting corridors and rooms in surprising places.  Tonks suspected there was some sort of spell woven into the architecture, rather like the ones at Hogwarts, which gave the building a personality of its own.  A fucking obnoxious personality.

Again and again Tonks and Fleur found themselves pelting down corridors only to find themselves face-to-face with one of the Carrows. There were a number of narrow escapes as they tore around the building, and Tonks was glad that Fleur appeared to be handier in a fight than she’d ever given the girl credit for.  Fleur was quick and creative, catching their opponents off-guard and ducking out of trouble with powerful elegance.

They were running down a long corridor lined with portraits, several of which were shouting insults featuring some very colourful language, when Alecto Carrow appeared  _ again _ , spitting curses and quivering with rage.  She managed to knock Tonks backwards with a powerful Stunning Spell and, though Tonks was quickly back on her feet again, she wasn’t quick enough to stop Alecto hitting Fleur with the Cruciatus Curse.

Fleur’s screams echoed up and down the corridor, loud and desperate, and Tonks just about lost it.  She flew at Alecto, her anger pushing half her Auror training out of her mind.  It didn’t help her aim any, and Alecto seemed almost amused by Tonks’ furiously protective rage, laughing at her openly between curses.

The duel between them was bitter and bloody, so all-consuming that Tonks didn’t notice someone else arriving in the corridor behind them.   One minute she was trading hexes with Alecto, the next Fleur was jumping onto her back, bodily forcing Tonks down.  Alecto’s wand was in full swing, the Killing Curse on her lips as Fleur and Tonks landed in a heap on the ground.  Tonks could only just see the flash of green light shooting above her, passing barely inches from Fleur’s head.  She instinctively grabbed hold of Fleur’s hand, the only part of her Tonks could reach, and clutched it tight.

The Killing Curse hadn’t gone completely to waste, though.  There was a loud thump behind them as a body fell to the floor, and Alecto screamed.  Tonks and Fleur struggled to their feet, somehow still holding onto each other the whole time, and turned back to see the prone form of Amycus Carrow splayed out on the floor.  There could be little doubt that he was dead, his life extinguished in a moment by his sister’s stray spell.

‘You!’ cried Alecto, rounding on Tonks.  Her breath was coming in shallow, desperate gulps.  ‘You… you made me…’

‘You killed your brother,’ Fleur interrupted her.  She spoke quietly, with a resigned and distant horror in her eyes.

Tonks raised her wand, easily binding Alecto, who shouted and struggled, but put up a very poor fight.  ‘And you’re under arrest.’  She kept her wand trained on Alecto, just in case, and told Fleur to send for back-up.  Just this once, Fleur did as she was told without a smart comment or argument.

It was only minutes until Alecto was removed, on her way to questioning and then Azkaban.  Amycus was taken away, but the only things his future held were the morgue and then the grave.

‘Well done, I suppose,’ said Kingsley when he arrived.  ‘If we can keep inducing Dark Wizards to kill each other we’ll have a lot less work to do.’

Tonks smiled weakly.  She stood beside Fleur, her hand nestled in the small of Fleur’s back.  ‘We still need to finish searching the building,’ she said.  ‘You want us to try the cellars?’

‘If you’re sure you’re up to it.’  Kingsley nodded.  ‘Keep your eyes open, though, there could be more nasty surprises lurking around there.’

The cellars were cool and still, but mercifully free of dripping water or fearsome beasts, at least so far as Tonks could see.

‘She was aiming for you,’ said Fleur, after a long silence.  ‘The Dark Witch; she tried to kill you.’

‘She nearly did.’  Tonks turned to Fleur and smiled.  ‘Thanks for that.’

Fleur scowled, the expression marring her delightful features.  ‘And she killed her own brother,’ Fleur continued.  ‘How do you think she will live with that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Tonks admitted.  It wasn’t her job to worry about those sorts of questions.  She couldn’t think about things like that and do her job.  ‘Its times like this make me glad I’m an only child.’

Fleur stopped walking and turned to face Tonks, her face eerily pale in the weak light of the cellar. ‘You do not take this seriously enough,’ she said.  ‘I think, perhaps, you are not capable of taking anything seriously.’

There was a quip dancing at the back of Tonks’ tongue, or maybe even a barbed comment about how she needed to toughen up and learn how to survive, but the expression on Fleur’s face was so unbearably sad that the words died at the back of Tonks’ throat.

‘She tried to kill you,’ said Fleur again, her eyes wide and luminous.

‘But she didn’t,’ said Tonks, her tone soft and warm, just this once.  ‘Because of you.’

There was a tear half-formed in the corner of Fleur’s eye.  Tonks kissed it away, and then kissed the other side of Fleur’s face for good measure.  Fleur sighed and wrapped her arms around Tonks’ neck, pulling her close.

‘Change back,’ Fleur whispered into her ear.  Tonks had almost forgotten that she was still wearing her face in the shape of Clarabel Wilkes.  ‘I want to see you as yourself.’

Tonks stopped still, looking down.  ‘What makes you so sure you even know what I really look like?’

‘You look how you choose to look,’ said Fleur.  ‘The real you is the one you create.’

There was something beautiful about that, something magical and real which threatened a wellspring of emotion that Tonks didn’t know how to begin to process.  Instead, she let her face fall back the way it had looked that morning, and pulled Fleur a little closer.

‘Better?’ she said.

‘Much.’

Tonks kissed her again, tender and slow, mindful that Fleur had not long shaken off the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.  Fleur made an impatient noise and wrapped a leg around Tonks, grinding against her.  Soon Tonks was pushing Fleur up against the wall of the cellar ( _ the cellar of a Dark Wizard stronghold they were meant to be searching  _ Tonks remembered guiltily) and they were tugging at each other’s robes.

This time Tonks wanted to savour the experience, take her time and celebrate being alive, and whole, and survivors.  It was hardly a romantic setting, though, and Fleur was impatient as ever, so a quickie up against the wall it had to be.  Fleur’s skin was soft and sweet, her nipples firm between Tonks’ teeth, her fingers deft and precise as she curled them up inside Tonks, making her writhe and buck and moan and call out.

After, Tonks tried to pull away, but Fleur mumbled, ‘not this time, my sweet,’ and kept on pressing soft, damp kisses to Tonks’ neck.

Fleur was so tender and so lovely, Tonks struggled with an absurd wish to Apparate them both away, and wrap Fleur up somewhere safe, possibly in Tonks’ bed.  Where did that come from?

‘We should really keep looking,’ she said, although more than a small part of her regretted it.

She tried to ignore the disappointment on Fleur’s face.

‘Very well,’ said Fleur.  She held out her hand in an exaggerated gesture.  ‘Lead on.’

Tonks didn’t really expect to find much, and the first few rooms they went through contained old furniture, fire-damaged cauldrons, and some very nice bottles of wine that Tonks absolutely forbade Fleur from stealing.  In fact, Tonks was so sure they were chasing pointless dead ends that she was genuinely surprised when they  _ did _ find Regulus.  Well, Fleur did, actually, although she was expecting to find a boggart in a locked ornamental wardrobe, not an errant member of Tonks’ ever-ridiculous family.

‘What are you doing here?’ said Regulus when they got him out.  No gratitude, of course, not that Tonks expected any.

‘We are rescuing you,’ said Fleur, before Tonks could make a rather less kind suggestion.

Regulus huffed and drew himself up to his full height, doing his best to look haughty and superior.  Tonks let herself grow a couple of inches taller, because she could play at being a petty child too.

‘I don’t need your help,’ Regulus insisted.  ‘I’ve got everything until control.’

Tonks just rolled her eyes.

‘Where is your wand?’ demanded Fleur.  She held out her own.  

‘It’s… somewhere,’ said Regulus, looking impossibly shifty.

‘Perhaps it’s “under control” like the rest of your situation?’ suggested Tonks.  Part of her was glad, in a way, that they’d found Regulus in such a sorry state.  If he’d been upstairs fighting he’d probably be on his way to Azkaban by now.  Tonks was prepared to send a family member to Azkaban – she’d always known she had to be – but that didn’t mean she liked the idea. 

‘I really don’t see what concern it is of yours,’ said Regulus.

‘We are Aurors,’ said Fleur indignantly.  ‘And you are very rude.’

Rudeness was really the least of Regulus’ flaws, in Tonks’ considered opinion, but it wasn’t really an examination of his character defects she was interested in.  What she really wanted to know was what Regulus was hiding, both in general and specifically in the wardrobe behind him.  A quick wave of her wand revealed there was definitely something alive in there, but it wasn’t human.

‘Have you got some sort of animal in there?’ asked Tonks, gesturing at the wardrobe.

‘How dare you!’ said Regulus, still trying to play the outraged pure-blood card.  Apparently he hadn’t noticed it wasn’t really working for him.  Still, he wasn’t completely clueless, because it only took a minute of Tonks fixing him with her fiercest stare to make him relent.  ‘ _ Fine _ .  Kreacher, you’d better come out.’

Tonks and Fleur exchanged thoroughly confused looks as an unusually unattractive house-elf – which, given the standards of house-elves generally, was going some – shuffled out of the wardrobe and stood muttering beside Regulus.

She had a feeling she was going to regret asking, but Tonks was a professional, she wasn’t going to let a little bit of extreme weirdness get in the way of doing her job.

‘Right, you’d better tell me exactly what you’re up to and you’d better do it now,’ she said forcefully.  ‘Why were you hiding – or possibly trapped, I can’t tell – in a wardrobe, with a house-elf, in the basement of a house full of Dark Wizards who, if the cuttings collection in your flat are anything to go by, had every intention of breaking Bellatrix Lestrange out of Azkaban?’

That seemed to get to Regulus, as his face displayed a flicker of concern.  Kreacher gasped and tugged on his master’s robes.  ‘I’m not working for them,’ he said.  ‘The Knights of Walpurgis.  I’m not.’

‘Prove it,’ said Tonks.  ‘Come back to the Ministry and give a statement.  A full statement, no holding back.’

Regulus appeared to consider the matter, as though he had any choice in it.  ‘I might be willing to offer the Ministry some assistance,’ he conceded.  ‘But you needn’t think you can haul me in to be interrogated like some common criminal.’

‘You  _ are _ some common criminal,’ Tonks pointed out.  ‘You’ve already got one conviction, remember?  So unless you want to actually make it all the way to Azkaban this time, I suggest you learn to co-operate.’

‘Don’t try to intimidate me,’ said Regulus.  ‘I’m not scared of you or the Ministry.’

‘Perhaps you are afraid of humiliating yourself, though,’ suggested Fleur.  Tonks glanced over at her; what was she up to?  ‘It would be most embarrassing if word got out that you and the elf had been found cowering in a wardrobe.  Crying, I think, and waiting to be rescued.’

‘I wasn’t crying!’ said Regulus.  ‘And anyway, I don’t care what you tell those morons at the Ministry.’

Fleur grinned.  ‘I was not talking about the Ministry.  I was thinking we should tell your brother.’

Regulus’ sneer faltered. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘You know, my sister Gabrielle, when we were children most of the time we played nicely together,’ said Fleur conversationally.  ‘But when she got into trouble… I am not proud to say, but no-one remembers it like I do.’

Fleur beamed at Tonks, her smile broad and open.  It was beautiful.

‘And if I heard she had been caught… crying, was it?  And in a state of undress – well, I do not think I would’ve been quick to let her live it down,’ Fleur continued, grinning mischievously.  ‘But perhaps Sirius is kinder than me.  Less judgemental.’

Regulus glowered furiously.

‘You know, we are taking you in either way,’ said Tonks.  ‘The degree of humiliation involved is entirely up to you. ‘

‘Fine,’ agreed Regulus.  ‘I’ll talk.  So long as you don’t.’

Tonks led him and Kreacher back upstairs, with Fleur following along behind.  It seemed unlikely there was anyone else lurking around, but Tonks knew better than to trust Regulus any further than she could throw him.  She made good use of the trip, filling Regulus in with details of exactly how much trouble he’d be in if he didn’t co-operate fully.  Regulus made a big song and dance out of how he didn’t care, which was evidence enough that he did.

‘I still can’t believe you’re really more frightened of having Sirius laugh at you than going to Azkaban,’ said Tonks as they made their way back to the drawing room, which the MLE were using as makeshift operations room.

‘You’ve never had to live with him,’ Regulus muttered darkly.

Fleur rolled her eyes.  ‘Younger siblings,’ she said.  ‘They are so annoying.’

‘I’m lucky I’m an only child,’ said Tonks.

‘Lucky, perhaps,’ agreed Fleur.  ‘And spoilt.’  She was teasing, but there was a look in her eyes that suggested she wouldn’t mind spoiling Tonks a little more.  Tonks rather liked the idea.

#

After the excitement, more paperwork.  Sometimes it felt like the entire department was drowning in it.  It was nearly five hours later when Tonks had finished writing up her own notes, as well as going through everything she and Fleur had picked up at Regulus’ flat.  Tonks was up to her eyes in it, which meant she was coincidentally far too busy to talk to Fleur about… things.

‘My dear cousin behaving himself?’ she asked Kingsley when he got out of another extended interview session.

‘Singing like a canary,’ said Kingsley.  ‘You’ll be glad to know he really hadn’t fallen back into his old ways.  He was very upset about the plot to break Lestrange out of Azkaban.’

‘Really?’ Tonks was pleasantly surprised.  She’d been more than a little worried that he’d been right in the thick of it.

Kingsley nodded and handed her a copy of the interview transcript.  ‘It seems they wanted to use a house-elf for the break out.  Clever, really, because their magic might well have bypassed most of the security at Azkaban.  Cruel, though, because they would’ve sacrificed the unfortunate beast to the Dementors.’

Tonks scanned the document Kingsley had given her, frowning.  If Regulus was telling the truth, the rump group of the Knights of Walpurgis had pressured him into lending Kreacher’s services, and he’d already made a harrowing trial visit to the island, though fortunately he hadn’t got to Lestrange.  This, he claimed, was what had finally turned Regulus against them.  As motives went it was certainly unusual, but Tonks was too tired to question it.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever understand my family,’ she said, handing the transcript back to Kingsley.

‘Emotional, unpredictable, prone to unseemly behaviour?  Must be tough.’  Kingsley grinned at her.  ‘How is Fleur?’

Tonks regretted how for all her Metamorphmagus abilities allowed her to change the shape of her face, they did nothing to stop her blushing.

‘Talk to her,’ said Kingsley, and the way he said it was almost like an order.

‘Of course I will, I just have to – ’

‘Talk to her,’ said Kingsley again, kinder but still firm.  

Tonks nodded mutely, and turned to leave.

#

Talking to Fleur meant finding her first.  She wasn’t anywhere in the office, or at the cafeteria, or in any of the Ministry meeting rooms.  She wasn’t at home, and none of the neighbours had seen her all day.  She wasn’t late night shopping, walking in the park, or at the Leaky.   _ Some Auror I make, can’t even find my own trainee _ , thought Tonks.

Of course, that did mean she’d be seeing Fleur at work the following day anyway.  Perhaps by then she’d have worked out what she wanted to say to her as well.  Tonks decided to call it a night, and Apparated to the end of her street before walking the last few yards home.

She lived in flat above a shop that pretended to sell Muggle cash registers, but was actually a front for a cheap Portkey business.   Her mother hated it, claiming that Tonks was just roughing it as some sort of youthful rebellion.  Tonks never dignified that accusation with a response, mostly because it was at least partly true.  She liked the area, though, a rare mix of magical folk and Muggles, where everyone was strange enough themselves that they didn’t bother staring at anyone else.  Anywhere else a beautiful French girl in absurdly expensive clothes sitting in the window of a 24 hour greasy spoon and staring at her coffee like they were mortal enemies would’ve been bound to attract attention.

‘Fleur.’  Tonks managed, just, to avoid saying something stupid like  _ what are you doing here?  _  as she sat down opposite.  She did knock the sugar bowl over, though.

‘They say this is coffee, but I think it is troll tears,’ said Fleur by way of greeting, pushing a chipped mug full of murky brown liquid across the Formica table.  ‘It tastes like despair.’

Tonks glanced around, then Vanished the coffee.  ‘How do you know what despair tastes like?’ she said, aiming for jovial.

Fleur looked directly at her at last.  Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.  How was it that made her look even more beautiful?

‘I am used to men looking and not seeing me,’ said Fleur.  ‘It never troubled me so much as when you did it.’

Tonks opened her mouth to protest, but no words came.

‘You do not like me,’ said Fleur.  ‘I understand.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Tonks, her words as clumsy as her feet had ever been.  ‘I mean, I don’t – ’

Fleur just shrugged, the gesture somehow strangely full of contempt.  OK, well, maybe Tonks could see her point.  She hadn’t really acted as though she liked Fleur, had she?  All that moaning about not wanting to mentor a trainee, the sarcastic commentary. Oh, and the having sex with her in inappropriate situations and then ignoring her after.  It didn’t look good.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tonks managed at last.  ‘I’m not very good with feelings.  They get a bit… overwhelming.’

‘You are not exactly challenging national stereotypes, you know,’ said Fleur with a tiny smile.  ‘If I go back to France and tell people I had my heart broken by an English girl who could not cope with emotions, no-one will be the least surprised.’

Tonks thought she might be surprised by the notion she was in any position to break Fleur’s heart, but that wasn’t the what troubled her most.  ‘Are you,’ she asked, ‘going back to France?’

‘That depends,’ said Fleur enigmatically.  ‘I do not think I want to be an Auror.’

‘Really?  You’d be good at it.  You  _ are _ good at it.  You saved my life today, remember.’

‘Perhaps.  But I do not like it,’ said Fleur.  ‘You must know, you must have realised by now, I only stayed this long because of you.’

Tonks hadn’t realised, not at all, and she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t be made to re-sit her Observation and Tracking courses.

‘My first week, I knew it was not for me,’ Fleur continued.  ‘But you were there, and you…  wanted to impress you.  You might remember the lecture from Moody about getting to know suspects by talking to their friends and families.  I thought the same might work for personal matters.’

‘That’s why you made friends with Sirius,’ said Tonks.

‘He said I should keep looking beautiful and following you around until you got the message,’ said Fleur.  ‘Also something about dog biscuits, but I think that was a joke.  It is hard to tell with him.’

‘I expect he was trying to be helpful,’ said Tonks.

Fleur nodded.  ‘He was very encouraging.  But I feel your mother’s advice was a little more useful.’

‘My mum?’

‘Such a charming woman.  She told me it was very important that I tell you how much I disliked the function she organised.  Of course it was terrible, but it was kind of her to say such a thing.’

Tonks let her head fall onto the table.  This was all getting beyond embarrassing.  She remembered, all too vividly, exactly what she and Fleur had got up to that night, and very much hoped Fleur hadn’t shared  _ that _ particular detail with her mother.  Fleur kicked her under the table.

‘Don’t slouch, Nymphadora,’ she said, in a disturbingly passable imitation of Andromeda Tonks.

‘Really?’ Tonks hauled herself up, scowling.  ‘Did you try my dad as well?’

‘But of course.’  Fleur smiled.  ‘He said, “leave me alone, you’re embarrassing me” and ran away. All I’d done was ask him how to get his daughter to talk to me after sex.’

‘You did not.’

‘Perhaps not,’ conceded Fleur.  ‘I thought I should try some of your friends, so I had a little chat with Charlie Weasley when he was in town.’

Tonks boggled, honestly curious.  ‘What did he say?’

‘Not much, mostly about dragons,’ said Fleur.  ‘It wasn’t very useful to be honest.’

Part of Tonks wanted to laugh at the ridiculous lengths Fleur has gone to, or even take offence that so many people in her life had been happily talking about her behind her back.  She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though.  Fleur – brilliant, beautiful, amazing Fleur – had gone to all this trouble, just to get closer to Tonks.

‘You’re crazy, you know,’ said Tonks.    

Fleur smiled.  ‘I do know.’

‘And I’m an idiot,’ added Tonks.

‘I know that, too.’

Tonks took a deep breath, bit her lip, and resisted the temptation to rearrange her own face.  ‘I think you should stop talking to my friends and family about how to win me over,’ she said.  ‘I think you should know you don’t need to.’

Fleur’s eyes widened.  How did she keep looking more beautiful, whatever she did?

‘I’ve been kind of shit about this but I never meant to make you feel like I don’t like you,’ Tonks went on.  ‘It’s just… what I said earlier, about being bad with feelings.  I’m not normally  _ this _ bad.  You’ve seen how clumsy I am, right?’

‘That is because you keep changing your shape,’ said Fleur.  ‘You don’t take the time to know yourself.’

‘Yes, that’s it exactly,’ said Tonks excitedly.  ‘And, you see, being around you makes me clumsy with my feelings.  I tried to be… I don’t know, different things, sometimes your boss, sometimes a friend, I could never make it work.’

‘Sometimes a seducer.’  Fleur arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

‘Sometimes that too,’ admitted Tonks, feeling her cheeks burn again.  ‘I told myself it was you using your Veela magic on me but I don’t think that’s true.’

Fleur looked back at across the table, her expression intense.  ‘I never did, I swear,’ she said.  ‘I never use it on people I like.  That would be too dangerous.’

‘I know,’ said Tonks, and she did somehow.

‘I meant what I said, back at the Carrow Estate,’ said Fleur.  ‘You look your best when you choose your own appearance.  I think the same is true in all things; you will be happiest when let yourself be who you want to be.’

Tonks considered the suggestion, scuffing her boots against each other as she thought it over.  ‘You are very clever, you know.’

‘Mm.’ Fleur nodded. ‘I hide it with good looks and fabulous clothes.  Men sometimes get intimidated by it.  But not you, I think.  I hope.’

No, Tonks didn’t think she’d ever felt less intimidated.  Nervous as hell, but she wasn’t afraid.

‘I think,’ she said slowly.  ‘I want to be an Auror.  One who doesn’t mentor trainees, though.  I want to give my family as much grief as they’ve given me.  I want to be kind, when I can, but still take the piss out of people who deserve it.  And I also want…’

‘Yes?’ said Fleur hopefully.

‘I want to be your girlfriend,’ said Tonks at last.  ‘Properly, no more messing about.  If you’ll have me.’

Instead of answering Fleur simply leant across the table and kissed her.  It wasn’t the best spot for a proper snog, but Fleur’s lips felt warm and soft as they pressed against Tonks’, the gentlest of kisses still leaving Tonks feeling giddy.

When Fleur pulled away she was smiling, looking not just beautiful but radiant.  Her joyful beauty seemed to light up not only her own face but everything around her – the dingy caff with its grubby tables, the peeling posters on the wall, even the grumpy old couple sitting in a back corner smoking and bickering; everything looked softer, warmer, so much more pleasant.  It was late evening, but Fleur was like the rising sun, flooding the world with light.

‘Can I take that as a yes?’ asked Tonks, a little breathlessly.

‘You can take anything you want,’ said Fleur, and it was all Tonks could manage not to do exactly that, right there on the Formica table.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ said Tonks as she gazed back at her with a kind of dazed reverence.  Oh, it  _ did _ feel better to not have to pretend to be anything other than utterly, hopelessly, ridiculously smitten with Fleur. 

‘As are you,’ said Fleur.  ‘But I think we will look best together.’

And that was one thing, as Tonks leant in for another kiss, she knew she’d be happy to agree.


End file.
